


Narratophilia

by dutiesofcare



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn With Plot, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 23:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12178737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutiesofcare/pseuds/dutiesofcare
Summary: The Doctor finds himself reading Clara a book. He only didn't expect the book to turn into graphic scenes of sex. Neither did he think they would both become extremely aroused by the words.





	Narratophilia

**Author's Note:**

> Smut with a plot. Don't tell me you haven't been warned.
> 
> The book mentioned in this is Bared to You, by Sylvia Day.
> 
> Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

Narratophilia: a sexual fetish, in which the telling or the hearing of dirty and obscene words or stories to/from a partner is sexually arousing.

Even if you hadn't intended to say them out loud.

Nor hear them.

* * *

There were knocks to the door before it was uninvitedly pushed open.

The Doctor glanced up from his bed, surprised to see his companion standing in the entrance of his room, wearing nothing but an old stolen tee of his and sweatpants, and yet not surprised at all for it couldn't be anybody else. He tossed a book away from his hands to the nightstand.

Waiting, silently daring her to take the first move.

And she did, unknown of the game he was playing – she lacked the patience to keep track of them all. Clara Oswald deepened her way inside his room, falling down at the cold spot next to him in the big mattress of his bed, one that, sometimes, she believed he had left just in case she would show up unannounced.

"Couldn't sleep," she confessed, softly, like she hadn't talked in such a long time her words weren't able to heighten themselves.

The Doctor watched as she tugged herself underneath the velvet of the sheets, waiting as she settled in a comfortable position – head buried in a pillow, body half laid towards him, half towards the ceiling.

A ceiling that, if she concentrated enough, she would be able to see the projections from the stars.

"You're bored," he concluded, looking down from his seating position to the hallow blackness of her eyes.

Clara shrugged, "I wouldn't exactly call insomnia  _boredom_ , but yes. Something like that."

He nodded, a sight in the corner of his eyes from the stars in the sky fulfilling his mind with dreams and potentially dangerous ideas. "Do you want to wander off the universe? I'm sure we can find something to ease your  _boredom_ ," he emphasized himself just as she had.

She groaned. "I'm too tired for an adventure, Doctor."

He frowned, but agreed. "Do you want to sleep, then?"

She shook her head. "I'm not tired enough to sleep."

His frown increased and he was compelled to ask, "Then why exactly do I have the pleasure of your company?"

Her lips turned into a curve of annoyance from his choice of words. "I knew you were awake, so I came to be awake with you."

He chuckled, but didn't protest, picking up a book from her hands as she was ready to give in to the quietude and return to her reading. " _Bared to you_. What is this, some mediocre 21st century human novel?"

Clara rolled her eyes, making sure he had noticed it, despite of his lack of response. "A friend from work recommended me it. Said it would do me good."

He scoffed, irony written all over his face. " _Has it_?"

"Dunno," she jerked back, "I'm only on chapter three."

His wrinkled his nose, opening the book up in the page she had last read and throwing her marker aside. He straightened his back, cleared his throat and began, " _His lips brushed behind my ear—_ "

"Hm, Doctor?" Clara arched her left eyebrow, suspiciously eyeing him, "What are you doing?"

The Doctor made a face, one that went around the lines of  _isn't it obvious?,_ but that didn't stop him from clarifying, "I'm reading your book, Clara."

"Yeah, but why?" she pondered, setting onto her side so she could properly stare at him.

"So I can learn how mediocre it actually is," he snapped, harshly. "Besides, it's more likely you'll drift off to the sound of my voice than by reading all these paragraphs all by yourself."

Clara seemed to consider it for a while, before giving in. "Alright, suit yourself."

Once again, the Doctor freed his vocal chords from the lump on them, restarting from where he had left, " _One of his hands pressed flat to my stomach, the fingers splaying to urge me back against him. He was aroused as I was, his cock hard and thick against my lower back._ "

It took him a few milliseconds to realize what he had just read out loud and his cheeks blushed intensively. " _Clara…_!"

She did her best to hold back her laugh, failing. Unlike him, she wasn't uncomfortable  _at all_. "It's just two people about to shag, Doctor. It's a natural thing."

He gulped down, too timid to even look in the general direction of hers. "I'm terribly sorry but I'm going to have to confiscate this book from you, Clara. You're not mature enough to read such a thing."

"Apparently, I'm more mature than you," she grunted, still smirking. "Come on, Doctor, I'm still not asleep."

Hiding his face behind the pages of the book, he carried on, " _He growled, deepening the kiss, stroking my tongue with lush slides of his own. I felt the ranging beat of his heart against my chest, proof that he wasn't just a hopeless ideal conjured by my fevered imagination_."

Clara felt as her breathing pattern grew sharper inside of her chest. During the long pause she knew he took for the purpose of analyzing each of the words only then to draw them a picture, Clara allowed her right hand to slip under the covers and end up beneath the fabric of her underwear, gently caressing herself in her most sensitive spot, unable to hold back her own arousal by the sex words added to the hoarse tone of his voice.

Biting down his lip for a brief moment, he ignored the fire in his cheeks and continued, " _I was pressed full-body against him, achingly aware of every hot, hard inch of him. I kissed him back as if I could eat him alive. My skin was damp and too sensitive, my breasts heavy and tender. My clit throbbed for attention, pounding along with my raging heartbeat._ "

The Doctor couldn't tell where the soreness between his legs was coming from. He only understood it when he put the down the book and glanced down at his own body, eyes widening when he noticed the hard rock that was forming below his trousers. " _Oh_."

"Oh?" Clara asked, clearly at lost. She followed the path of his eyes until they fixed at the same point. Her apple cheeks turned redder than the fruit they were called after. " _Oh._ "

He was quick to place his hands atop of his growing sex, trying to make himself less exposed to both of them. Sometime during his shock, the book had fallen from fists down the floor. "I don't think that I'm going to be able to carry on reading, Clara."

Clara pressed her fingers strongly against her own clit, not able to lie that his sudden arousal had turned her on even further. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't want you to, anyway."

For a while, all that could be heard in the room was their frenetic breathings.

Closing her eyes and not allowing herself to think, Clara let her free hand travel to meet his, being met by his stiff piece of flash. His face went blank. "Um… Clara? What are you doing?"

She gave his sex a squeeze,  _hard_ , without easing the grip around it. She uttered mildly, "I'm helping you get rid of it."

The Doctor let out a loud moan of a breath he had no control over. "I'm sorry to break this to you, Clara, but you're doing the exact opposite."

She opened her eyelids again, her lips departed from one another during her search for his stare. She silently glared at it, before admitting, "That's the idea, Doctor." She stuck her  _busy hand_ out of the blanket, working her way to meet the bare muscles of his body covered by the cloth of his pants, enjoying how soft he felt at the mercy of her fingers. "That's the idea."

Unconsciously, he leaned his waist forwards. He had always known how delicate her fingers were, he just had no idea they would feel this good against his aching erection. " _Clara,_ " he alarmed her.

Moving from underneath the covers, Clara sat on her knees just atop his tights. Her touch left his body only to pull down both his trousers and underwear, freeing him and welcoming the sight of his body she had never gotten around to see.

Until now.

She ran her hands up and down his shaft several times, watching as he did his best to hold back his groans and failed miserably. Under any other situation, she would have laughed. Clara let go of his member so she could close her fingers behind his neck and pull him closer to her, bringing their lips together.

The Doctor closed his eyes, allowing her request to access the unknown inside his mouth, accepting her invitation to meet the foreign territory of hers. He ran his tongue against the back of her teeth, letting it explore the arch of her mouth. Letting it taste the sweet of the mint from her toothbrush. He traveled his hands through her hair, wrapping them around the brown locks, fetching her body even closer to his.

Having no idea where his urge had originated from, the Doctor pulled her – his – tee over her head, tearing their mouths apart at last, revealing their swollen lips. He almost gasped when he looked down at her body and found her wearing no bra. His eyes glued to the pinky nipples in the center of each of her breasts, hard and rigid because of  _him,_ he knew.

He circled each of them with his thumbs, choreographing a dance between his fingers and her tits. Grinning, Clara brought her hands to the back of his neck, gently pulling his head to her, until his mouth met her chest. She didn't have to offer him any further indication of what to do.

The Doctor raced his tongued around the mountain of her nipple several times before swallowing it in. Licking and sucking it, his arms firmly pressed against her back and pulling her deeper into his mouth. Devouring her.

Clara dug her fingernails deep into the back of his neck, and part of her thought it only made him suck her harder – were it for revenge or encouragement. She moaned loudly when his kisses started descending her belly, leaving behind a tray of his saliva. Until he reached her waistband.

Ferociously, he plucked down her sweatpants, leaving her in nothing but her panties. He studied it for several moments, like it was too precious to be handled by his rude manners. Tenderly, he removed it, giving way to her pinky wet slit. He smiled.

Clara didn't have the chance to be warned before he sank his tongue deep between her folds. She moaned at his eagerness, breathless, sensing as he explored the regions of her body she didn't allow just  _anybody_ to explore. And god, did he feel marvelously inside of her.

She had no idea whether her arousal was building up because of what he did to her or for the image of him between his legs.

"Doctor," she called for him, struggling to maintain hold of herself, "S-stand up."

 _Still as bossy as ever,_ the Doctor thought to himself, giving her clit one last lick before following her commands.  _Still as devoted to her as ever_. Clara initiate the kiss once again, this time feeling her own taste inside of him and she knew.

She wouldn't be able to last much longer.

"Doctor," she cried again, inhaling and exhaling quickly, the tearing of their mouths making way for his lips to kiss and bite her neck. She begged, "Make love to me."

The Doctor chuckled at her choice of words, but didn't say anything about it. She would stop if he did, or she would prolong the torture to feel himself inside of her even more, and he, too, had his needs. The sternness of his member against his belly was more than proof to it.

As he caressed the crook of her neck with his tongue, he threw her against the mattress on her back, landing right on top of them. Clara pulled his shirt away and they were standing completely naked. Trusting each other with their most intimate depth: themselves.

The Doctor aligned the tip of his penis with her vagina, rubbing himself against her entrance several times. It was the burning of her eyes with lust that made his thrust her for the first time, getting a moan from both their lips. At first, neither of them dared to move, too drunk by the way their bodies completed one another, by how right he had felt inside of her.

And then, Clara took the power away from him.

As he would have expected.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him further into her. She rolled over the mattress until she was standing on top of him, sitting up and holding tightly onto his chest. For some reason, the Doctor found her extremely beautiful being in control of him.

She rose from him and fell down again. Straddling him. Choking his cock with the narrowness of her inner walls. Her lips left a gap between one another, allowing the air to go in and out of them. Her breasts bounced in the air as she rode him, the Doctor cupping her ass cheeks to help her move. Their hips slamming hard against one another.

What was once calm and tender was turning into hard and quick pounding. The closer they were to reaching their orgasms, the faster he plunged into her. Rough, unmercifully, and neither of them seemed to mind.

Clara and the Doctor came together and she fell against his chest, sweat mixing with sweat. She buried her head in the curve between his neck and shoulder, waiting for her breathing to normalize as she felt his own warm breath against her scalp. None of them dared to move. Too weak. Too succumbed to one another.

" _Fucking_ , I think you meant," he teased against her, at last allowing her body to slide from him to his side.

Clara shook her head, laying it against his chest. She didn't bother to hide her exposed body away. She had already given all of herself to him. "No, Doctor," she corrected him, tiredly, brushing her eyelashes against his skin until they rested at the bottom of her eyes. " _Fucking_ is harsh, unlinked, a desperate call to fulfill one's own needs.  _Making love_ is this, allowing all of myself to you, taking in all of yourself in replacement. Making love is more than just sex, it's accepting each other's flaws and desires and making everything we can to satisfy not just ourselves, but the union of us. It's lighting up the stars until we conquer the universe. That wasn't me  _fucking_  you _._ That was me  _making love_ to you."

The Doctor swallowed hard, feeling as she became heavier onto him. Knowing she was already starting to give up the exhaustion he had caused her, he uttered tenderly, "I never knew love could be this complicated. And yet this beautiful."

Her smile grew wide and she snuggled closer to him, pressing her body against his own. Not in lust. But in surrender. "I never knew it too."

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback is much appreciated :)


End file.
